... Fever You Can't Sweat Out."
This is the opening.
I don't own any of the songs, so I'm borrowing the lyrics. I'm planning on getting permission from the band before I take any steps for production. Lemme know what you think?
CAMISADO
Book by Michael Gettings
Lyrics by Michael Gettings/Panic! At The Disco
Music by Panic! At The Disco[
(Open with the lights coming down on a building. It’s non-descript, save for the lights on in every window. The light shifts, and a young man is seen walking down the edge of the house using stairs, walking towards the audience. He is THE NARRATOR.)
Narrator: Blank hotel.
(Moans heard from inside)
Narrator: Or is it? There are two sides to every coin that you see, and just because you’re looking at “heads” doesn’t mean that “tales” isn’t there, sitting pretty and waiting for it’s turn.
(Moans grow louder. The Narrator knocks the wall with his cane and they subside)
Narrator: I’m here tonight to tell you a story. I’m not one for lying to those who’ll listen to me; any meaning there is in this story you’ll have to find yourself… I’m not too good with things like that.
NARRATOR:
Sit tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time
C'mon, just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me
Good, good, now we're making some progress
Come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat
And I believe
This may call for a proper introduction, and well
Don't you see?
I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue
I swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen
Oh, they’re still so young, desperate for attention
I aim to be YOUR eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
I swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen
Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention
I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
Applause, applause, no, wait, wait
Dear playhouse audience, I've an announcement to make
It seems the people these days are not who you think
So we'll pick back up on that on another page[
Narrator: Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There are a few elements missing from this equation, I believe. The trophy boy…
(Steven enters Stage Left, holding a letter in his hand, pacing back and forth)
Steven: Liza is going to flip out when she sees this! Harvard… I can’t believe I got in.
(Steven exits stage left, proud of the letter. The lights refocus on the Narrator)
Narrator: Of course, I could tell you the rest, but then what kind of story would it be?
NARRATOR:
I swear to shake it up if you swear to listen
I swear to shake it up
If you swear to listen
Trophy boys
Trophy wives
I’m the narrator and this is just the prolouge
(END SONG)
Narrator: I’ve pointed out the hotel behind me.
(Taps cane, the moaning grows louder to a creschindo until he taps the wall with a can again, quelling the noise)
NARRATOR:
It's this substandard hotel
On the on the corner of 4th and Freemont Street
Appealing, only because it’s just that unappealing
Any practiced Catholic would cross themselves upon entering
The rooms have a hint of asbestos
And maybe a just dash of formaldehyde
And the habit of decomposing right before your very eyes
Along with the people inside
Oh, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Tonight tenants range from a lawyer and a virgin
Accessorizing with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie
She's getting a job at the firm come Monday
The Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney,
Moonlighting aside, she really needs his money
Oh, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Narrator: The trophy wife…
(The set opens to reveal a man behind a desk in the upper left hand corner, with a woman leaning over)
Narrator: Such a prize. Little does she know…
NARRATOR:
Not to mention
The constable, and his proposition
For that "virgin"
Yes, the one the lawyer met with on "strictly business"
As he said to the Mrs.
Narrator: The virginal daughter in the other room, working off a possession charge…
(Moaning coming from offstage)
Narrator: Well, it doesn’t sound like Liza is working too hard.
NARRATOR:
Well after he had left
As she was fixing her face in a compact
There was a terrible crash
(There was a terrible crash)
Between her and the badge
She spilled her purse and her bag
And held a "purse" of a different kind
(The two enter as the music fades, Liza leading the police officer, GAULT by the hand to the door. She falls to the ground, dropping her purse, which contents spill. GAULT leans down and picks up a baggie, examining it.)
Gault: Didn’t you just get done working off a possession charge?
Liza: Yes…
Gault: Why in the hell would you carry this into the same room with the officer you’re… working with?
Liza: I don’t know.
Gault: Well, let me guess… You wanted to get caught, didn’t you?
Liza: No!
Gault: Well, you have been… I bet the bed is still warm.
Liza: Well, I’m not.
Gault: Don’t have to be.
(Gault drags Liza offstage, the wall closes, focusing on the Lawyer and the Trophy Wife in the corner)
Trophy Wife: That’s the only advice you can give me?
Lawyer: Legally, yes. Tell her not to fight the charges. They’ll let her off with a slap on the wrist.
Trophy Wife: She’ll be relieved. I don’t know why I waited so long for legal consult.
Lawyer: Well, it’s tough to ask your boss, isn’t it?
(The Trophy Wife nods, and slips behind the desk. The Lawyer’s head rolls back, and the house closes)
NARRATOR:
Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
There are no
Raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses
It's sleeping with roaches and taking bad chances
At the shade of the sheets before all the stains
And a few more of your least favorite things
It's sleeping with roaches and taking bad chances
At the shade of the sheets before all the stains
And a few more of your least favorite things
Add a few more of your least favorite things
Narrator: Well, I do believe I can leave the story to tell itself from this point on. I’ll leave you to the story…
(Narrator begins humming the bars from the song)
NARRATOR:
Add a few more of your least favorite things…
(END SONG)
This is the opening.
I don't own any of the songs, so I'm borrowing the lyrics. I'm planning on getting permission from the band before I take any steps for production. Lemme know what you think?
CAMISADO
Book by Michael Gettings
Lyrics by Michael Gettings/Panic! At The Disco
Music by Panic! At The Disco[
(Open with the lights coming down on a building. It’s non-descript, save for the lights on in every window. The light shifts, and a young man is seen walking down the edge of the house using stairs, walking towards the audience. He is THE NARRATOR.)
Narrator: Blank hotel.
(Moans heard from inside)
Narrator: Or is it? There are two sides to every coin that you see, and just because you’re looking at “heads” doesn’t mean that “tales” isn’t there, sitting pretty and waiting for it’s turn.
(Moans grow louder. The Narrator knocks the wall with his cane and they subside)
Narrator: I’m here tonight to tell you a story. I’m not one for lying to those who’ll listen to me; any meaning there is in this story you’ll have to find yourself… I’m not too good with things like that.
NARRATOR:
Sit tight, I'm gonna need you to keep time
C'mon, just snap, snap, snap your fingers for me
Good, good, now we're making some progress
Come on just tap, tap, tap your toes to the beat
And I believe
This may call for a proper introduction, and well
Don't you see?
I'm the narrator, and this is just the prologue
I swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen
Oh, they’re still so young, desperate for attention
I aim to be YOUR eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
I swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen
Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention
I aim to be, your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives
Applause, applause, no, wait, wait
Dear playhouse audience, I've an announcement to make
It seems the people these days are not who you think
So we'll pick back up on that on another page[
Narrator: Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There are a few elements missing from this equation, I believe. The trophy boy…
(Steven enters Stage Left, holding a letter in his hand, pacing back and forth)
Steven: Liza is going to flip out when she sees this! Harvard… I can’t believe I got in.
(Steven exits stage left, proud of the letter. The lights refocus on the Narrator)
Narrator: Of course, I could tell you the rest, but then what kind of story would it be?
NARRATOR:
I swear to shake it up if you swear to listen
I swear to shake it up
If you swear to listen
Trophy boys
Trophy wives
I’m the narrator and this is just the prolouge
(END SONG)
Narrator: I’ve pointed out the hotel behind me.
(Taps cane, the moaning grows louder to a creschindo until he taps the wall with a can again, quelling the noise)
NARRATOR:
It's this substandard hotel
On the on the corner of 4th and Freemont Street
Appealing, only because it’s just that unappealing
Any practiced Catholic would cross themselves upon entering
The rooms have a hint of asbestos
And maybe a just dash of formaldehyde
And the habit of decomposing right before your very eyes
Along with the people inside
Oh, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Tonight tenants range from a lawyer and a virgin
Accessorizing with a rosary tucked inside her lingerie
She's getting a job at the firm come Monday
The Mrs. will stay with the cheating attorney,
Moonlighting aside, she really needs his money
Oh, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Narrator: The trophy wife…
(The set opens to reveal a man behind a desk in the upper left hand corner, with a woman leaning over)
Narrator: Such a prize. Little does she know…
NARRATOR:
Not to mention
The constable, and his proposition
For that "virgin"
Yes, the one the lawyer met with on "strictly business"
As he said to the Mrs.
Narrator: The virginal daughter in the other room, working off a possession charge…
(Moaning coming from offstage)
Narrator: Well, it doesn’t sound like Liza is working too hard.
NARRATOR:
Well after he had left
As she was fixing her face in a compact
There was a terrible crash
(There was a terrible crash)
Between her and the badge
She spilled her purse and her bag
And held a "purse" of a different kind
(The two enter as the music fades, Liza leading the police officer, GAULT by the hand to the door. She falls to the ground, dropping her purse, which contents spill. GAULT leans down and picks up a baggie, examining it.)
Gault: Didn’t you just get done working off a possession charge?
Liza: Yes…
Gault: Why in the hell would you carry this into the same room with the officer you’re… working with?
Liza: I don’t know.
Gault: Well, let me guess… You wanted to get caught, didn’t you?
Liza: No!
Gault: Well, you have been… I bet the bed is still warm.
Liza: Well, I’m not.
Gault: Don’t have to be.
(Gault drags Liza offstage, the wall closes, focusing on the Lawyer and the Trophy Wife in the corner)
Trophy Wife: That’s the only advice you can give me?
Lawyer: Legally, yes. Tell her not to fight the charges. They’ll let her off with a slap on the wrist.
Trophy Wife: She’ll be relieved. I don’t know why I waited so long for legal consult.
Lawyer: Well, it’s tough to ask your boss, isn’t it?
(The Trophy Wife nods, and slips behind the desk. The Lawyer’s head rolls back, and the house closes)
NARRATOR:
Inside, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy
There are no
Raindrops on roses and girls in white dresses
It's sleeping with roaches and taking bad chances
At the shade of the sheets before all the stains
And a few more of your least favorite things
It's sleeping with roaches and taking bad chances
At the shade of the sheets before all the stains
And a few more of your least favorite things
Add a few more of your least favorite things
Narrator: Well, I do believe I can leave the story to tell itself from this point on. I’ll leave you to the story…
(Narrator begins humming the bars from the song)
NARRATOR:
Add a few more of your least favorite things…
(END SONG)
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